


Torn from the Scrapbook

by KuraiOfAnagura



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, OtaYuri Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9845825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiOfAnagura/pseuds/KuraiOfAnagura
Summary: My contribution to the OtaYuri Week 2017.Day 7: Fantasy“Hey! Listen!”Upon the annoyed call, accompanied by the tingling sound of a bell, the green clad youth opened his eyes.“Oi, asshole! Wake up, already! We've got evil to defeat!”





	1. Day 1: Confession

 

„And thiiis is Sasha!“ Otabek was sure he'll go home a blind man after the two weeks he's about to spend with Yuri in St. Petersburg. As promised Yuri had visited him in Almaty in spring and now it was his turn to return the favor in the crisp of early August.

The week-and-a-half spent together in Almaty should've been warning enough, but alas, Otabek was not a wise man and the sheer radiance of the one and true and carefree given smile of 16-year old Yuri Plisetsky, was enough to scorch his retinas for good. Again.

With a flicker of panic inside his chest he threw himself into the only available distraction. The cat that was shoved into his arms. Only to stumble straight into another mild panic attack.

“Yuri, I have to confess something.”

He said this in his usual stoic and monotonous way, because the was no way, that Otabek Altin, the Hero of Kazakhstan would show weakness in the presence of something as fluffy and soft as this cat.

“Ohmygosh, you aren't allergic, are you? Are you going to choke on her hair!?” If the bright shine of his smile sent his innards into turmoil, then this look of concern and guilt opened a bottomless abyss in Otabek's heart.

“No, not allergic. It's just that I don't know anything about cats. This is, in fact, the first time I ever held one.”

“You're kidding me!”

“I am not. There exists a picture of me at 5 years of age were I pet the cat of my grandmother's neighbor, but I honestly can't remember that incident.”

Yuri's expression shifted again. This time to heartfelt open pity.

“Otabek Altin, you poor, poor boy! But don't you worry! I will make a cat expert out of you until the end of the week!”

“We did have dogs?”

Yuri blew a raspberry, clearly stating that owning a dog was in no way comparable to the ethereal bliss of grazing the presence of a feline. Or so he stated.

“Sasha was my only friend for a long time. Grandpa gave her to me when I left for training in St. Petersburg at 11. I knew no one here, so he thought I would need some company. She's a ragdoll, that's a breed that's known for their cuddly needs and otherwise lazy behavior.” To emphasize his statement he gripped the cat under its shoulders and the graceful creature went limp like a furry sack with eyes.

“And you, my little Padawan, will start with ignoring her completely.”

“Ignoring her?”

“That's what I said. And never look her into the eyes, that's good manners among cats.” Otabek's gaze flickered instantly from the cat's to Yuri's and back to the cat. It was hard to avoid her piercing stare. Both of them.

 

Otabek earned the fruits of his hard labor the third morning after his arrival. As he was about to wake up being suffocated by cream colored fur. Sasha had chosen his neck as an adequate resting place for the night, her suddenly way heavier body draped over his windpipe and her long and thick hair all over his mouth and nose. Otabek shifted, but tiny needle like claws kneaded lazily into his shoulders as a low yet deathly warning.

With a definately-not-whiny sigh Otabek accepted his fate. He would wait until Yuri would wake up and free him from the feline overlord that appeared to accept his presence in her household.

 


	2. Day 2: Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The couple may now exchange their vows.”
> 
> They shifted to face each other and intertwined their hands. Yuri took a deep breath and looked up into Otabek's eyes.

It was nothing as grand as the wedding of Victor and Yuri so many years ago. Yuri brought his grandfather, Mila, Victor and the Pork Cutlet Bowl with him and Otabek his three sisters and his childhood friend from Almaty. It was going to be a small ceremony, mostly for the law. Nothing for the public and eye and also nothing for themselves. They've learned to celebrate their union in every fleeting touch, in every glance thrown across the room, in every little nonsense that appeared on their screens.

So much had happened since that day in Barcelona. Now two careers have ended and one new live was about to begin. Together.

“The couple may now exchange their vows.”

They shifted to face each other and intertwined their hands. Yuri took a deep breath and looked up into Otabek's eyes.

“You're the best of me. All that I lack I find in you. You complete me in a way I never thought possible before and in a way that still awes me even now. I love you more than I can express, neither with words, not even on the ice. Without you, I'm nothing.”

Otabek's voice held a smile and uncharacteristic crack in the edges. “You are my world and my center. I would've gone astray so many times if it weren't for you. Your eyes of a soldier and your steel in your bones. It scares me how much I need you, how much I love you. Because I never thought I was able to feel that way. I love you. Without you, I'm lost.”

As they kissed their family and friends erupted in cheers.

It was nothing grand. Nothing big. Nothing with overflowing emotions. Nothing that would appear on any social media account or in any press report. It wouldn't even held any legal significance in their respective home countries.

It was nothing big.

For them it was perfect.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day two's more of a drabble.  
> I can imagine them marrying more out of convinience. Like Otabek had a minor bike crash and Yuri felt utterly helpless, because the hospital staff wouldn't let him to his boyfriend.  
> Also, while I'm sure Victor and Yuuri will have grand speeches, for Yuri and Otabek it's more of some short sentences :)


	3. Day 3: Childhood/Future

Yuri's thumbnail found the gap between his front teeth and he had to reprimand himself consciously from gnawing on the nail as he stared down at the latest contact in his phone. He was finally and oh so slowly coming down from his high of winning the GPF in his senior debut and all the other stuff that happened in and around the event.

Starting with Victor retiring from retirement, the record breaking skate of the little piglet and their whole love-dovey ruckus. And of course ending with his first friendship, a friendship with one Otabek Altin, who claimed to have first noticed him during summer camp.

Yuri felt genuinely guilty for not remembering Otabek at all, while the other boy obviously held the memory that dear. His thumb hovered over the new contact. His phone was on airplane mode, so whatever a stray finger might've caused was obsolete anyways.   
While his stomach still turned when he thought about his win, the lightheaded feeling was by now leaving his brain and he was able to think more clearly.

With the clear head also came the fear. Nobody ever had asked him to be friends before and in Yuri's anxious mind their friendship already had a bad start with Yuri not remembering their shared childhood experience. Sleep was finally claiming him and Yakov picked the phone from his fingers as he saw his eyes slowly dropping. The exhaustion crushed down on him like a wave. He'd experienced the sequence of feelings before. First the rush of winning, then a sudden episode of clarity, followed by a lead-like call to sleep it all off. He had hours of the plane flight ahead of him, he could also easily answer his body's needs.

Well, maybe it doesn't matter that he doesn't remember their childhood, he thought as he snuggled into his hoodie. After all they would have a future together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit: this prompt gave me the hardest time. I just couldn't get the right ideas.  
> But I played a lot in my mind with different approaches and settled finally to this, after discussing the different perception of the significance of their first meeting with a friend :)


	4. Day 4: Domestic

“Serik! Wait a second!”

“Excuse me, but I'm not allowed to talk to the press alone.” The eyes of the lanky youth darted nervously left and right in favor to avoid direct eye contact with the approaching man.

“Oh, no, it's nothing like that! You see, I'm not here as a reporter!” Finally Serik dared to take a closer look at the guy. He was tall, with remarkable silver hair; though it was hard to tell if it was just a very platinum blond or already silvered by age. He panted a little, obviously hurrying to reach him, and tried to regain his breath. Now straightened and clapped his hands together.

“I meant to talk to you for some time, Serik!”

Serik's gaze stopped at the press card that hung around the reporter's neck, resting on the vest of a well fitting dark grey suit. The reporter noticed his stare and hurried to pull the card off his neck and put it into his breast pocket with a wink. As if he wanted to say ' _see, not a reporter!_ '

“I wanted to ask you some things about Yurio!”

“Yurio? I'm sorry, but I don't know somebody of that name?”

“Aren't you Serik Tsoi from Kazakhstan, the pupil of Otabek Altin?”

“Yeah...?” By now Serik had reached the point where he definitely was nervous. It was his first major event outside of either Kazakhstan or Russia. The NHK Trophy was not only the first time he left the continent, but also the first time he was about to clash with the top figure skaters of the world. Being assaulted by reporter's and sponsors was so new to him, the mixture of languages and different nationalities whirling around him was, mildly said, overwhelming.

Otabek had kept him close, most of the time, a steady rock guiding him through the wild waters that was an international competition.

But now Otabek was away for a briefing and had left Serik with the words “Take a look around, but don't wander too far.” Serik had managed to dodge most cameras and most people who the telltale aura of ' _competitor_ ' around them, but now this strange man stood in front of him and talked to him as if he knew him or at least as if Serif should know who he was.

“And you don't know Yurio? Yuri Plisetsky?”

Serik must've made a face of recognition, because the reporter's eyes lit up. “Ooooh, right, I'm sorry! I was talking about Yuri Plisetsky. You know, I'm his former coach and Yurio's my nickname for him, since my husband's name is Yuuri as well and it got really confusing!”

Yuri's former coach? Serik knew about a Yakov Feltsman, but in his later years Yuri'd spent a lot of time here in Japan to train under...

“You're Victor Nikiforov...” he mouthed breathlessly, suddenly feeling very very light headed.

“Why, I am! Of course! Oh! I Haven't introduced myself, haven't I? I'm terrible sorry! But like I said! I really wanted to talk to you! Would you let me buy you some coffee? Or better tea? You look anticipated enough as you already are. Yeah, that sounds about good! Let's have a good calming warm cup of tea together!”

 

Victor, he'd insisted on being called by his first name by the young skater, had managed to clear a small couch in one of the cafes that were scattered around the rink. A warm paper cup of herbal tea was shoved into his hand and Victor sparkled with curious eyes at him over them brim of his own cup.

“I've heard from Otabek that you live with him and Yurio in their apartment?”

“Yes, I'm originally from Astana, but the best training facilities lie in Almaty. We don't have dorms like in Russia, so Otabek agreed to host me as he became my coach. And it's really ok, because he has a really big apartment and I have my own room.” Victor smiled encouragingly as he took another sip from his tea. Serik's back straightened. He was drinking tea with THE Victor Nikiforov. Sure, Yuri had broken most of his records, but the man was still a living legend.

“And do you like it? That Otabek's your coach? He is still comparable young and you're his first pupil on an international level?”

“Being trained by _the_ Kazakh skating legend himself is the most I can wish for!” Victor just smiled a little brighter and Serik felt himself relaxing under the gentle smile. “And other than that I think he's a really great coach. His training is hard, really hard. But he listens to me when I ask something. And that's nothing I've experienced before.”

“I haven't expected anything less from him.” Victor concluded with a satisfied sigh. “And Yuri's living with you, too?”

At this Serik shifted uncomfortable in his seat, his nervous strain suddenly back. He did not know how much he could share with this man, skating legend and former coach aside. Serik himself had been in a mild shock as he'd first seen THE Yuri Plisetsky in their living room, dressed casually with black leggings and an oversized leopard patterned shirt that hung low on one shoulder. Of course he knew that his coach (by their first encounter Serik had lived for nearly two weeks in Almaty) and the infamous Yuri Plisetsky had been really good friends throughout their competitive careers. The skating legend, besides Otabek Altin, he'd grew up to, who'd retired two years before and now modeled (the sheer atrocity of such a live style after skating!) in New York for different labels, just lazed around very casually on his coach's couch. And worst of all the more lethal of the horror-cat pair that inhabited his new home was _cuddling up to him_! Serik and Otabek had come home from the rink for today and Yuri Plisetsky's face lit up in a smile that quickly morphed into something between polite neutral and nervous as he paced towards them. His gaze flickered questioningly between him and Otabek; Serik got the feeling of being left out in a non-verbal yet very eloquent discussion between the friends. It was Otabek who broke the silence and planted a firm smack on Yuri's lips and murmured ' _welcome home_ ' into their lips. Plisetksy's shoulders relaxed and he murmured 'I _diot, I was about to say that_ ' back, before he captured Serik in a hard and taunting gaze. “So. You're the little delinquent, that steals my boyfriend's time away?”

Serik was never very religious, yet he still needed his time to get accustomed being around a very gay couple. He also was just a child of his upbringing, but Otabek's and surprisingly Yuri's patience paid off and broadened his horizon.

“Don't worry, I know that they're together. They've actually spent several vacations at my husband's and my house. I've been the one that lectured Otabek about not laying a hand on my little cute pupil until he was at least 18!” Victor said it as if he'd read Serik's mind. And despite the disturbing fact that he just termed Yuri Plistetksy with the words “cute” and “little” Serik felt himself relaxing again.

“He's not at home all of the time. He flies around a lot. Mostly to New York or around the globe. But yeah, when he's here, he lives with us.”

“What I want to know, little Serik,” suddenly Victor was way too close into his personal space, glacier blue eyes boring into his, voice low and dark and sultry. “How they _really_ are together. Yurio's very _very_ secretive about the true nature of his relationship with Otabek. I'm talking about blackmailing material here. Yes, I am. But trust me, it will pay for you. Help me now and you'll earn my loyalty as an allay. And Victor Nikiforov is better your allay than your foe.”

Serik's eyes went wide and he tried to fuse back with the cushions. Maybe it was the tea. Or the rush of the upcoming competition. Or the sleep deprivation from the jet leg. But Serik felt a little daring today.

“Deal.”

Victor leaned back finally and his mouth formed that heart shaped smile again. “Go on, then.”

“They're actually the most domesticated and sugary sweet couple I've ever seen.” He began and noticed with delight how Victor choked a little into his tea.

“When Yuri'll come home from a rather longer visit, they'll spend like five minutes with their foreheads pressed together, just staring into each other's eyes. The first time I witnessed this it freaked me totally out! Because I thought something really bad had happened! They maintain the illusion of a good friendship outside, but as soon as they're away from any onlooker they're always touching. And when I say always, I mean always! Nothing fancy, but there's at least always one hand on the other. Otabek and I go on morning runs before my school and when we come home Yuri's already prepared breaktfast. With designated cups. Like, cups that has 'Best Boyfriend' written on them. Yuri's running during the afternoon mostly and when he comes home he sometimes has picked a flower or a made a little bracelet of flowers, which he'd put in Otabek's hair or on his wrist. And he won't say anything about it. Just put it there and then they would smile at each other.

And also Yuri takes Otabek's black Shepherd with him on his runs. Even though he always states how much he hates dogs and that cats are so much better.

Otabek's a mediocre cook, I can survive his skills. But when Yuri's at home, Yuri'll cook for all of us. Sometimes he's like a general in the kitchen, throwing orders around with this wooden spoon. I swear, I once saw Otabek salute with a pan!

When they talk in private it's this totally weird mix of Russian, Kazakh and English and it's like their own language which I cannot follow most of the time.

When they brush teeth in the evening Otabek holds Yuri's hair without any comment when he rinses his mouth.

But what's really the cherry is how damn loving they are around each other. I experienced quite a few Plistetsky's TM myself and Otabek's merciless during training. But when they're together it's like... I don't know... like it was meant to be?”

Some seconds of silence stretched between them in which Victor did not move an inch.

“My dear, dear Serik. I bless the stars on the day you were born! This is pure gold!” Serik had ended his list and noticed with a little shock that Victor was teary eyed.

“Now this is a sight that had followed me in my most horrific nightmares,” the characteristic snarl in the voice made them both looking up. At the entrance of the Cafe stood the cornerstone of their conversation. Cold sweat of fear started to pool at the base of Serik's back and he saw his live flashing before his eyes-

“I've hoped to be spared of your sore sight, geezer, but it seems as if I can't run from you at the NHK.”

“Yurio! There's no way in the world I would miss your first scouting mission!”

“Fuck off, baldy! And that's still not my name!”

“I'm so glad you're somewhat returning to skating! I know you love your other job, but being a scout for the youths really hits your strong streak! Nobody was ever more capable to point out the weaknesses of skaters with a precision like you! The boy you sent to us from that shopping mall in New York is such a promising talent! Yuuri's been thrilled as he saw his self made step sequence!”

“His jumps are shit and his flexibility is non-existant. I've thought such a hopeless cause was best with a hopeless coaching duo.” Yuri glared down at his former coach and Serik gave a pitiable squirrel like squeak as his piercing eyes landed on him. “Haven't we told you to steer clear of suspicious people? And here I find you with the most suspicious and dangerous of them all!”

“I-I'm sorry?”

Yuri gave a tsk-sound and picked Victor's cup from his hands to drain the remaining tea.

“Don't worry, Yurio, I saw your little lamb wandering alone and thought to offer him a little bit of advise. We had a nice little chat.”

Again Yuri's searing gaze wandered towards Serik, who suddenly wished to be several inches smaller. “I swear to all that's holy, Serik, if you've pulled some bullshit I will find out and judging by the grade of your crimes I will find a punishment that leaves you regretting the day you were born.”

Serik really really wished Otabek would come back from his briefing soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Seric, my precious little substitue when it comes to rambling about my OtaYuri headcanons in their future! /D  
> He's a good kid, though a little too bad in the desicion making department. No, no, my little boy, you don't betray a Yuri Plisetsky.


	5. Day 5: Enouragement

“You're about to loose your nerves.” It wasn't a question.

“I am.” A steady gaze and a clear answer.

“Come.” I firm hand in his and pull at his arm.

It's a dark locker room. There's always a dark and abandoned locker room around when you're in need of one. Just like the Room of Requirements from the novels. Not that he'd told Yuri that he still enjoyed reading Harry Potter.

A steady palm on his shoulder, a gentle force pressing him into the wall.

“Listen. It's the Olympics. I know it's a big deal. I'm here myself. You get it? I'm with you in this. So calm down and breath with me.”

“I am calm.”

“No, your fucking not. Your jaw's all clenched up and your breathing is swallow. Don't fucking play the strong card now, Beka, I know you.”

“I try.”

“Just breath, ok? Deep and steady. I got you. I'm feeling it, too.”

“You don't get it-”

“No, Beka, I get it, ok? I know what it means to you, to be here for your country. I really get it. And I wish I could help you- … You need a distraction.”

“A distra- Aaaah! Yuri!”

“I hope my mouth around your cock is a big enough distraction for forget about your fluttering nerves?”

He was beyond responding. The lightheaded feeling from earlier, the Adrenalin pumping nonstop through his body, the promise of bile in the back of his throat; it all suddenly... evaporated. Vaporized by the unbelievable hot mouth currently wrapped around his member, which stood shamelessly erect within moments. Yuri licked the whole length, took his sweet time to work his way along and made sure to _suck_ hard on the tip. With a low moan he took all of him and flashed his bright green eyes up. The sight was enough for Otabek to come at once.

Shivering and with wobbly legs he steadied himself against the sink as Yuri packed him up again. He smirked breathlessly at his still somewhat delirious partner. With mischief glinting in his eyes he kissed him. Knowing fully well that Otabek would taste himself in their kiss.

“What were you worried about earlier?”

“I can't honestly remember.”

“Good.”

“Then again I'm having problems on remembering my name.” Yuri threw his head back in laughter and Otabek realized that maybe the impromptu blow job had been important for Yuri, too.

“Come, Phichit's probably done with his SP by now, it'll be your turn soon. You think you're ready?”

“Yes, I think I am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blushing like a schoolgirl!!! ///D  
> Then again... I was a pretty shameless schoolgirl, so it doesn't count much...  
> AHEM! Anyway! This is the first time ever that I wrote something as explicit as that! And yeah, some of you must think "sweet summer child" I know, I know /D
> 
> Btw, this is the Peking Olympics, so probably the last for them and probably even the last season for Otabek, so he really has to feel the preassure.


	6. Day 6: Rivalry

Poor Phichit, thought Phichit. And poor Phichit indeed, because he'd just got the greatest of bad luck. As a child his mother had scolded him during kitchen work and drilled a very simple rule into his mind. Don't get into the way.

Because if you get into the way, you get caught between things.

And Phichit did just get between two of the most outstanding powerhouses that currently dominated the ice. On the one side there was the probably scariest skater on and off the ice. Not only because of his colossal achievements starting from a very young age, but also because of his downright terrifying nature. All flurry and anger and beauty of their sport condensed into one single person. Yuri Pliesetsky was a person to be feared for sure. On the other side there stood the dark horse of skating himself, Otabek Altin. He was all power and passion, raw and hot around the edges. His skating was dark and calm, yet striking as lightning and Phichit's heart never failed to throb in fear whenever he saw him on the ice. A thunderstorm, barely contained strength, tamed into one body, ready to be unleashed.

“Ok, my ears start bleeding from all the bullshit you spill. Phichit, you'll be the judge!”

“J-judge?” Yes, that was a squeak. But this was Plisetsky glowering at him. Who would not squeak?

“Judge which of us does the better move.” It was Otabek know who spoke, suddenly way too close. Thankfully he turned his attention to Yuri and Phichit was amazed how somebody half a head smaller could stare _down_ on Yuri until he averted his eyes with an annoyed _tsk_.

“Your bitterness of your non-existent flexibility makes you a sore looser, Altin.”

“I don't need to to be bitter about something I don't need in the first place, Plisetsky. And besides unlike you I have plenty of other features to rely on.”

Phichit was sure he would die here and today as both boring gazes, one hot and searing in green, and one dark and demanding in black, pressed down on him. The Thai cursed every action in his live that lead him to this situation. Starting from that day in the mall when he stood on blades for the first time. Befriending Yuuri Katsuki and thus somehow getting closer into Yuri's and therefor Otabek's inner circle. Ending with his decision this very morning to get out of bed and go to the free training session for _Stars on Ice_ that they were currently working for. Usually those free days were a lot of fun, everybody could show their love for their sport freely and without pressure.

Of course that would only last for so long, since a bunch of athletes were thrown together never.

It started mediocre. Yuri started with an Ina Bauer, but bent his back impossible far, until his head rested on his ankle. He flashed Phichit a taunting smirk as he passed him. Otabek opted to go with his by now dubbed ' _Matrix-move_ ' which was horrible hard to copy, as Phichit had learned the hard way, since it relied to a steady strength not only in the legs, but mainly in the back muscles.

The two went back and forth with varying moves until Yuri decided to seal the deal with a quad Flip. Just like this it had happened. He didn't even need a lot of momentum and BAM the jump was there and his lips curled cruelly and victorious, because the three of them knew it was move neither of the other two had landed that jump or a higher ranking one yet.

Phichit felt his mouth open in awe. The shock didn't last long though, because he nearly dislocated his spine as his head snapped to Otabek, bracing himself on delivering the news that he couldn't possibly top that and _please do not eat me for dinner I know you like Thai food, but I sure don't taste good!_

But Otabek smiled. Well, not a real smile. That wasn't anything Otabek did. Or could. But as much as his facial features could morph into something akin to a smile, they did. Or maybe it was closer to a smirk. Either way Phichit didn't like what he saw.

Altin skated past Yuri, making sure to pass him too close, forcing Yuri to flinch out of the way. He skated a lazy round backwards through the slightly crowded rink, bringing himself in a clear line.

And did a backflip.

“YOU FUCKER!!!” Yuri's scream of rage screeched over the ice.

“You motherfucking asshole! I'll wear your blood as my make-up for the next competition!!!”

“Yeah, I also thought that it was pretty cool,” Otabek said as he skated towards them. Yuri met him halfway and their chests bumbep into each other. This time Otabek's not-smile actually showed teeth and was a little too preparatory for Phichit's liking. All the while Yuri glowed in a seething aura of anger and stared down hard. Their heads were too close and Phichit wouldn't be surprised if they'd actually lean in into a kiss. But nah, what was he thinking? Those weren't Yuuri and Victor.

Like a switch flipped, Plisetsky deflated and rested his head on Otabek's shoulder.

“You'll be the death of me, Altin.” Otabek threw his head back in laughter and patted Yuri's shoulder in camaraderie.

“Don't worry, it's not as if I can do it in a competition. And I could've never pulled a Bolayn on skate eiher, so there's still room for you!”

“I don't think so, but ok.”

“Come on, let's grab lunch. Phichit, you coming, too? My treat, since you so graciously played judge.”

Phichit could think of a tone of things he'd rather do than 'grab lunch' with those two nightmares. But he was too slow and Yuri's surprisingly hard grip under his arm hauled him along. It would be terrible, he just knew it. It was always the same with competitive skaters in one place! It didn't really help either when said athletes were best friends. If possible that was even worse!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so feel with Phichit in this one!  
>  Poor little guy just was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
> 
> I've alays pictured Yuri and Otabek showing off in good humor with each other. While Yuri sticks to the classics during those, Otabek does a lot of free style skating moves.  
> Something like this here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_VDSiNzJ0U  
> The Matrix-move is of course an hommage on the fanfiction What Hoodies are made of by pissedofsandwich https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059233 and in extention to that the Exhibit piece of Denis Ten xD


	7. Day 7: Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very very Sorry for the following

“Hey! Listen!”

Upon the annoyed call, accompanied by the tingling sound of a bell, the green clad youth opened his eyes.

“Oi, asshole! Wake up, already! We've got evil to defeat!” Curiously the young man sat up and watched the little ball of blue white dancing furiously in front of him. When he looked closer he could see a small human figure withing the glowing orb. Its big translucent wings were the only thing visible that passed its aura.

“So your name's Otabek, eh? The Great Yakov Tree told me so. You're supposed to be the Hero or whatnot. So best to get your lazy ass up and grab yourself a sword or whatever shit you Hylians need to fight and let's hit the road!”

Otabek stood in the middle of his tree house and inspected the fairy closer. It had light hair and determined eyes, a permanent annoyed scowl written over its features.

“I'm Navi, by the way. But don't you dare to call me that! I'm _A Navi!_ Name's Yuri.”

Otabek nodded.

“You're not one of much words, are you? Well, doesn't matter. Let's get over with this shit. First we've got to visit the Great Yakov Tree!”

 

–

 

“So basically you just have to pull this shiny sword out and that's the key to defeat the Lord of Evil Victdorf? Smells fishy.”

Otabek glanced questioningly towards the shining blade that rested in its pedestal. It was too long for him anyway, but he really really wanted to help the Princess Zelduuri. He was nice to him and he liked him. Not as much as Yuri, but still.

With a determined look he took the handle of the sword and pulled...

 

–

 

“I'll be damned, you look hot!”

“Agreed.”

“Eh? Who the fuck are you?”

“I'm the Sage of Light, you can call me Chris. Greetings young Hero, clad in the Green. You've pulled the Master Sword and slept for seven years”

Otabek was too shocked by the sudden change in his body (has Yuri always been this small?) to take in all of his surroundings. His fairy companion though, was more aware of it.

“You? A sage? Stop kidding? Why should there be stripping poles in a sage's chamber? And for fucks sake, wear something!”

“Why? You're also naked?”

At this the fairy spluttered with barely contained rage. “It's called skintight, you dipshit! It's not my fault that the Great Fairy demands a standard uniform for all Fairies that barely conceals anything!”

“I like it!”

“Of course you do! You're a pervert!”

“Didn't you know? Perverted sages are THE trend lately!”

“I fucking can't believe it! Otabek! We're going!!!”

 

“Hey, Otabek, don't look so down. I know it all looks kinda... dark... and apocalyptic and... destroyed and... dead... but for fucks sake, you're the Hero! Chosen by the Triforce! If anyone can change that, you can!”

The youth offered him a halfhearted smile and the fairy sighed and settled on his shoulder.

“And besides, I know it's not much help, but you're not alone in this. I'm with you, ok? All through the end.”

Otabek gave the fairy a little squeeze and couldn't help but to feel a little lighter.

 

–

 

“The flow of time is always cruel... Its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it... I am Yuuri, Survivor of the Shei-“

„I call bullshit! You're Princess Zelduuri.“

“W-wah-? No! I'm a warrior of the Sheikah tribe!”

Yuri and Otabek exchanged a _look_.

“Yeah, Beka, I'm totally feeling it too. Ok, oh mysterious warrior, sing us your little song!”

 

–

 

Hero and Fairy stood heavily panting with their backs pressed on the heavy wooden door on top of Victdor's tower. Panic was edged into their features.  
A long quest lay behind them. The had ventured through volcanoes (where the evil fire worm JJvagia dared to cross their path) and through the bottom of Lake Hylia (“Greetings, Otabek. Oh, you don't remember me? It's me! Milaruto, Princess of the Zora and your future bride!” “Fuck off, hag, he's mine!”). They've met with sages and the Great Fairy (Otabek got a little too stunned after meeting her. Nobody as old as the Great Fairy Lilia Baranovskaya should were nothing more than leaves). And now finally the duo had ascended the evil Lord's castle, vanquished foe after foe and had finally entered the highest chamber, sword and shield ready!

And turned heels immediately.

“You may look like 19, but you were for sure too young to see … THAT! Hell, even I was too young...”

The Hero nodded mutely.

“That was just... ohgosh... Great Hylia, may Din's fire scorch my retinas!”

“Otabek? Yuri?” The oaken doors behind them opened again, revealing Princess Zelduuri, who had hastily flung some sheets around her. Cautiously she approached the frightened youth.

“You, uhm, probably didn't expect that, do you?”

“Of course we didn't expect the fucking Princess fucking the fucking Lord of FUCKING EVIL!” Both Princess and Hero winced.

“Language, Fairy!” Victdor appeared behind Zelduuri in the door, mercifully at least wearing a pair of pants.

“Fuck off, Fucker!”

“Otabek, you're probably kinda confused, but please let me explain,” the Princess opted to omit the fairy and the Evil Lord out of their conversation. Otabek nodded again somewhat hesitantly.

“You see, Victdor and I... we noticed that we're actually not that different and that we... are actually pretty much on the same page, you know? We noticed when we've finally ditched the whole “Lord of Evil” and “Princess of Destiny” stuff and sat down and talked and... well... it soon got more and... yeah... But don't worry! We have of course also talked about Hyrule! Victdor's totally ok with not destroying it anymore! Actually we want to work together and make it a beautiful country again!”

The Hero offered the Princess a small smile. Zelduuri's shoulders sacked in relief.

“Of course your heroic actions will not go unnoticed and unthanked! I will send you back in time so you can relieve your youth and-” But Otabek had held up his hands to stop her. With a meaningful look he pointed towards his fairy, who by now had started a tennis match with balls of pure energy with Victdor. And here he thought he was the only person who could wield the Master Sword.

“You want him to...? Oh, I mean, uhm, I can do that. Sure, but uhm... you really want to...? I mean.... he's that small and already this... not to think about how he would be if he's taller... erm, not that I'm afraid or anything... just....” The Hero took the Princess' hands in his and looked at her with a silent plea in his eyes. She sighed in defeat.

“The Great Fairy will not be happy about this. But I am the Sage of Time and it is within my power to grant you, Hero of the Triforce, your wish.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'd like to say how sorry I am for creating such a messed up crap! 8D  
> But then again, I can't help how my brain works and with Breath of the Wild coming out in FIVE DAYS the connection was too easily drawn!

**Author's Note:**

> It was really fun to work with prompts again, since I havn't done somethign similiar in more than a decade :'D  
> These drabbles/ficlets range from 'incredible silly' to 'actually wanted to write something like that for a long long time' :)
> 
> You can also talk to me, if you like, on Tumblr: http://kuraiofanagura.tumblr.com/


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